Disclaimer: I am poor and own nothing. And because I'm poor, this is my only source of entertainment, so please do not sue.
Authors Note: This story is dedicated to Tracy137.
LANCELOTTRISTANBABY – Well, Tristan's back this chapter. The telling of his past was my favorite part too. I'll probably put more of it in later on. Only with Tristan giving her looks during it…should be fun.
Lucillaq – Love your enthusiasm! Glad you liked it.
Tracy137 – I just had to put in the baby. There will be more mention of him later. I'm glad you liked that chapter. I liked it too personally and that doesn't happen often. Hope this one lives up to it though.
Op – I'm glad you thought it was pretty. Well, he's here, hope you like it.
Just a fan – Glad you like it. Now, here's Tristan!
Texasgrrl – Well a short review is better than no review. I'm not into that whole long lost loves staying lost in this story. He'll be back in this one.
Lunawolf – Well, I am evil, but not that evil. You'll get his reaction and a little more. And I will kill him painfully. And am open to suggestions on how to do so. I figure if I get enough and combine some of them, along with my own twisted sense of vengeance, he might just suffer enough.
Evenstar-mor2004 – Obsessions are fun. They break up the time. Oh thank you, for the torture ideas. Still unsure what exactly Tristan is going to do to Cornell yet, so all suggestions are welcomed.
Babaksmiles – You know, your review came in just as I was about to post this. Yeah, Cornell is a dumbass, but if he was smart, then it wouldn't have worked much. Glad you like the story so much. Light, dawn, either way it works for the reasoning for her name. I'm glad you like it. I looked it up online and it just seemed to fit. Hope you like their reunion. It was kind of difficult to write being as Tristan is so silent.
FlamezBlaze1 – Glad to hear it. Hope this one's just as good.
GalahadsLass – Glad you like it. And you're very welcome for not using Lancelot. I love him, but I love Tristan more. Thanks for reviewing.
Chapter Six: Home
"The ones on your back are looking better as well," Dagonet said as he and Roxana made their way towards the tavern. It was late in the evening and he had just finished tending to her wounds. "You should be well by the end of the month."
"Glad to know," she smiled at him, looping her arm through his as they moved through the streets. "And my face, how long do you think before it will be normal again?"
"The swelling has gone down a great deal, and the bruising already shows signs of fading," he patted her arm reassuringly. "About two days."
"Good," her smile broadened. "I would hate for him to see me now."
"From what you have said, and as well as I know Tristan, I can safely say, he will love you either way," Dag said with a grin.
She slapped his arm playfully. "I know that as well as the next, but he will be angered, and I fear for what he would do to those who are responsible."
"So you plan to let Cornell live?" Dag asked skeptically.
Roxana made a disgusted face. "Yes and then I plan on sharing Lancelot's bed," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "He is not the one I am worried about Tristan going after."
"The Roman man?"
"Aye. He is very powerful, due to his son being the favorite of the Pope himself. Tristan would be killed if he were to go after him now."
"So merely do not tell him the mans name and all will be well," Dagonet reasoned.
"If only it were that simple, but I fear Tristan has, ways of getting information out of me," she smirked and Dagonet grinned knowingly.
They arrived at the tavern to find Lancelot and Arthur playing dice with some other Roman soldiers, Bors fussing over his newest addition and Gawain and Galahad having a knife throwing contest while several of the barmaids watched on. She nodded towards Lancelot and Arthur as they passed, and walked silently up behind Galahad, releasing Dagonet's arm and moving a knife from her belt with her left hand. Taking careful aim, since she was naturally right handed, and threw it hard, landing it in the hilt of Galahads dagger.
Both men looked at her in shock, half expecting to see Tristan standing behind them. She grinned proudly before moving to take a seat next to Bors, rubbing the babies cheek with a finger. "Roxana!" Galahad said
"How do you do that?" Gawain asked causing Roxana to turn and peer at them over her shoulder.
"It's simple really," she smiled. "You aim for the middle."
xoxoxoxoxoxox
Tristan had never been happier than he was at that moment to see the fort at Hadrian's Wall. Well, that wasn't true, he'd often been happier, but that was before the Roman's had collected him. He let out a inaudible sigh as he rode through the gates and towards the stables.
"Tristan, you're back early," the unmistakable voice of Jols called, trotting over to him and taking the reins of his horse.
"Aye and glad for it," Tristan replied tiredly, dismounting. "The others?" he asked, looking around.
"At the tavern, I'll fetch them for you," Jols replied, looking around nervously.
Tristan eyed him suspiciously. "I can fetch them."
"No, it is nothing. You seem tired from your journey. I will fetch Arthur for you, I believe he wanted to see you privately upon your return," Jols spoke quickly, handing the reins of Tristan's steed off to one of the other squires.
"Jols, has something happened?" Tristan asked, staring at the man before him.
"Nothing bad I promise you," Jols stated, already running towards the tavern as fast as he could.
Tristan merely shook his head slowly and looked to one of the other stable men. "You, go have them draw me a bath," he stated, already walking towards the meeting room.
Arthur watched curiously as Jols trotted up to him. "Arthur, they have returned," he panted slightly.
"Already?" Lancelot asked incredulously, slamming the point of his dagger down onto the table to keep the Roman from collecting his winnings yet. He looked at him pointedly. "Best of three."
"Where is he Jols?" Arthur asked rising and heading towards the stables.
"The meeting room I'd guess," Jols replied, rushing to keep up. "I told him you wished to see him upon his return."
"Thank you Jols, you did well," he patted the squire on the back before striding the rest of the way to the meeting room. "Go and tell the others, but not Ana," he stopped and grinned at the young man before him. "I think it would be good to surprise her."
"Aye, then I will not tell Galahad either," he grinned.
"Good idea, as always," Arthur smirked before walking the rest of the way to the meeting room. He entered and found Tristan sitting at his usual seat, quickly rising as Arthur entered the room.
"Arthur," he said in greeting.
"Tristan, how did it go?" Arthur asked, motioning for the other knight to sit while he took the chair next to him.
"Well," Tristan replied, looking at Arthur. "It would have gone faster had they let us all go."
"How very true old friend," Arthur patted Tristan on the shoulder before looking down at the table, running his hand lightly over a carving. "We must speak Tristan, and I felt it best to do it in private."
"You may say anything to me Arthur. As you say, we have no secrets," Tristan stated, eyeing him curiously. He knew that was a lie. He had secrets.
Arthur looked up at him then, and sighed. He really wasn't sure the best way to approach this and wanted to do it correctly. "We have noticed how much more detached you have become since Cornell's arrival," he noticed the way Tristan bristled at the mention of the man, and his fist clenched slightly, a sad look in his eyes.
"Aye," Tristan said, looking at his commander, his face as unreadable as usual.
Taking another deep breath. "Why did you not tell us of your wife?"
Tristan paused, looking directly into Arthur's eyes for a long moment. When he finally did speak, his voice was barley audible, "He told you then?"
"Cornell? No, he has yet to return," Arthur replied, holding Tristan's gaze. "He said he would not be back until most likely after you returned."
"Then who told you of her?" Tristan eyed him suspiciously.
"She did," Arthur answered, watching for the first time, a shocked expression pass over the scouts face.
"How can that be," he whispered, looking down at the table, where he noticed his fist had clenched to the point that his nails had dug into the skin, leaving indentations as he released it. "She is dead."
"Who has told you this?" Arthur asked comfortingly.
"Cornell." The name was spoken with more hatred than Arthur had ever heard.
"He lied Tristan," Arthur said, placing a hand on Tristan's shoulder. "She is very much alive."
"Where?" Tristan asked, his face returning to it's normal unreadable self. "Where is she?"
"At the tavern with the others, Tristan wait!" he called as the scout was already in motion, heading as fast as he could towards the tavern, Arthur at his heels.
Tristan paused outside and entered silently, his eyes scanning the room before falling on her. Unmistakably her. Her long black hair was pulled into a braid, obviously not her own work due to its neatness considering her broken and splinted right arm, an oversized red gown adorned her body, which looked to be thinner than it had been before, and her right hand was lying at her side as she tried to teach Gawain and Galahad how to throw a knife properly. His eyes rose to settle on her face and his breath caught in his throat. Those blue eyes, the ones that reminded him so much of the sea, were surrounded by bruises, and he could catch the glimpse of a stitched wound on her forehead.
He noticed as the other knights looked up at him, worried expressions on most of their faces, as Jols stood nearby Lancelot.
"She escaped from a Roman prison somewhere in Britain," Arthur's voice sounded behind him. "She will not tell us where or the name of the man who has done this to her. Gawain and Galahad found her on patrol yesterday. She was badly injured, but Dagonet says she will recover fully."
Tristan nodded slowly before moving fast again, silently across the room and stopping behind them as she threw the knife again, landing it at the end of Gawain's dagger. "It is not that hard," she sounded exasperated. "You simply aim for the middle."
"But it is such a small middle," Galahad whined as he threw his dagger again, it clanging harmlessly to the floor.
"You must put more force behind it than that. You're not going to knock it from the chair," she sighed, shaking her head slowly, allowing Tristan to catch the familiar scent of lavender and wild flowers that always surrounded her. Silently he removed his dagger and lined up his shot, letting the dagger fly, landing it at the end of Ana's, which was still at the end of Galahads.
Roxana became completely rigid as Gawain and Galahad turned, a smile on Gawain's face and a shocked look on Galahads. "Tristan!" Galahad stated, his eyes going in-between the knight and his wife.
Before Roxana could move, an arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against a familiar warm body, and a voice whispered huskily in her ear. "When you are through teaching them wench, come and keep your husband company," before he leaned over and kissed the scar on her forehead and moved over to the table.
She gulped, looking at the two youngest knights, unsure what to do next. Gawain nodded encouragingly before walking over to the table and picking up his ale. She let out a sigh and held her hair higher and turned, walking over to Tristan, where he sat eating an apple. She paused at the table and looked at all of them, smiling encouragingly towards her, when her eyes met a pair of chocolate ones that she hadn't seen in over a decade. He was chewing, his eyes never leaving hers, and while he looked like her appearance didn't affect him, those who knew him saw the flash of anger in his eyes as he gazed at her bruises and her scars. He regarded her for a moment before leaning back slightly and moving his arm, giving her room to slid onto his lap.
She did just that, her eyes never leaving his, almost afraid that he really wasn't sitting in front of her. As soon as she touched him, breathed in his scent, she knew and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him fiercely. She wasn't at all surprised to feel his own arms wrap around her, pulling her against him.
"Mind her ribs," Dagonet said softly, as the others watched the rare display of affection from their scout.
"He needs to mind nothing Dag," she said, pulling back enough to run the thumb of her left hand over the tattoo on his cheek. "I have missed you," she breathed, only so he could here.
He said nothing, but leaned his forehead against her own, as they had used to do, and kissed her lips, mouthing I love you as he did.
"Get a bleedin' room," Bors snorted only to be hit over the head by Vanora.
"Let 'em be," she stated, moving to get more drinks for everyone.
"What, no flowers this time Tristan?" Lancelot teased, sitting down at the end of the table near Arthur.
Tristan raised an eyebrow at Roxana, as he began carving the apple again. "Telling secrets My Ana?" he asked, handing her the slice.
"And why not? They are my secrets to tell," she smiled taking it and eating it slowly, ignoring the pain in her jaw.
"Wench," Tristan stated continuing to carve the apple, handing most of it to her.
"What are you trying to do, fatten me up for dinner?" she teased, beginning to feel the strain in her jaw.
"You're too thin," Tristan replied easily.
"So you do not find me desirable any longer then?" she asked, humor in her voice but a certain lilt to it as well. Sounding almost as if she feared his answer.
He looked directly into her eyes, to emphasize his next words, "Never happen."
She smiled and stroked his cheek with her good hand before resting her head against his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"So how'd it go?" Bors asked passing the child to Vanora and accepting the ale she brought him.
"They slowed me down," Tristan replied, finishing the apple and setting down the core to take to his horse.
"And how many Romans did you drag back?" Lancelot asked.
"Six," Tristan replied, unconsciously tightening his arm that rested around Ana's waist, afraid that if he let her go, even for an instant, she would fade with the mist. "His best."
Bors let out another snort while Gawain began to speak. "It is a wonder they didn't send us. Then they wouldn't have lost any men."
"What do you expect from Romans though, present company excluded of course Arthur," Ana said, running her fingers absentmindedly through Tristan's hair.
"I think it is best we did not go," Dag said, drinking his ale and looking directly at Ana.
"I agree," Tristan said, as Ana smiled at him.
"Tristan," a young squire came up to the table then. "Your bath is prepared," he stated looking nervously at the scout.
"Here, give this to my horse," he said tossing the apple core to the squire and rising, letting Roxana's feet touch the ground, but not releasing her waist.
"And thank you," she smiled at the young man who was no more than sixteen and slapped her husbands arm in reprimand.
"Wench," he muttered, as Bors burst into a ruckus laugh.
"Look at 'em, just like me and my Van," he laughed, earning another slap upside the head from the aforementioned woman.
"Go easy on him Roxana," Lancelot said, laughing, earning a look from the scout.
"Perhaps we should be telling him to go easy on her," Galahad stated laughing as well.
"Good night," Roxana rolled her eyes at them, allowing Tristan to lead her towards his room.
They got as far as the alley before the sleeping quarters when Tristan had her pinned against the wall, kissing her deeply. He then moved up to her eyes, kissing the bruises and over to the stitched area, down her earlobe and to her neck, until he reached her lips again.
"Not that I am not enjoying this," she said breathlessly between kisses. "But perhaps we should actually go up to the room."
He looked into her eyes then, and she melted. "That day was not enough to last fifteen years," he stated, kissing here again before sweeping her easily up into his arms, heading up the stairs towards his room. He kicked open the door and then kicked it closed behind him, setting her down before the bed as she began to pull at the last remnants of his armor. He pulled away long enough for her to remove it and was back, his lips consuming hers. His hands went to her waist and began to move up, brushing against her ribs, causing her to whimper slightly against his lips.
He pulled away from her then, a mixture of different emotions in his eyes. "Who?" he asked quietly, anger lacing his voice.
"Cornell sold me to a Roman upon coming here," she whispered, not looking into his eyes.
"The Roman's name?"
"No."
"What?"
"No," now she looked at him. "Not so that you can ride off to your death as soon as I have found you. I will not have that!"
"Roxana."
"NO!"
"Very well," Tristan looked frustrated enough to strike her, but moved away, turning his back on her and taking off the rest of his armor and weapons.
She sighed and walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his body and resting her head on his back. "One day I will tell you, and on that day we will find him together and he will pay for what he has done before we return home. But I refuse to tell you something that will lead to your death a month before you get your freedom."
"What of Cornell?" he asked, not turning to look at her, but resting a calloused hand over her smooth somewhat scarred one.
"If he returns here, then we will dispatch him, but I fear he has gone to check on my condition and found me escaped. If that is so, then he would be a fool to return here. Either way it matters not, for he can be easily tracked, and then, we will have our revenge my love," she stated, kissing his shoulder. There was another reason to hate Cornell. She had denied it until now, but she could not after this moment, and she would tell Tristan. But not tonight. If she told him tonight, he would leave her and hunt him down, so she would bide her time.
He turned in her arms and pulled her against him, leaning down and kissing her deeply. "I have missed you," he murmured into her ear, kissing her neck again.
"And I you, but your bath is getting cold my husband," she pulled away to look at him, mischief in her eyes. "And you desperately need one."
"That so eh?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he began to undo the laces on her gown. "And do you expect me to bathe alone?" he asked, looking at her, a smirk in his own eyes.
"Perhaps you should," she said, trying to pull away only to be held tightly against him. "My body right now will only anger you more."
"Not possible," he replied, fingering the stitching on her forehead. "I will kill them for this," he murmured against her lips, pulling free the rest of the laces.
"We will do it together," she said, helping him to pull his shirt from his body, running the fingers of her left hand over the scars on his chest, leaning forward and kissing them as she went.
"I am not used to seeing you in dresses," he mused as he went to pull the garment from her, her hand stopping him.
"My arms and legs, they are bad Tristan. And Dag says my back as well, and the bruising near my ribs is growing," she whispered.
He nodded slowly and slipped the garment to the ground, revealing her naked skin. He had to close his eyes for a moment to suppress the rage at the sight of the scars and the bruises. He felt her hand on his face and leaned against it for a moment, turning to place a kiss on her palm before opening her eyes. "Why?" it was all he could choke out, but she understood.
"Because I would not share his bed, and killed twelve men to prove my point," she stated, a smirk at the memory. "After all," she looked into his eyes. "I made a vow."
He smiled down at her and kissed her lips gently, glad to have her with him again.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
Tristan lay in the bed, watching her sleep late that night, enjoying the feel of her in his arms again. They had sat in the tub for a long while, washing each others scars before Tristan removed the splinting around her arm, letting it rest in the warm water as he held her, just enjoying her closeness. And when they had made love that night he tried his best to be gentle and careful with her, not wanting to cause her any more pain than she had already suffered. He would have waited. What were a few more days after fifteen years really? But she would have none of it, stating that she needed him close that night.
He sighed as he looked at her, really looked at her. She was so thin now he could see her bones beneath her skin. Her arm was re-splinted and looked so frail resting against her stomach. Her skin, which had once been tan from riding through the fields, was now pale from lack of exposure. Her eyes, still as blue as the ocean, were sunken slightly into the sockets. Her hair though was just as he remembered. As dark as the midnight sky, and her smile still lit the room like the morning dawn. And most of all, she had not allowed her spirit to be broken. A true pride to their tribe. And despite the scars, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.
As he watched her sleep, as he often did when they were home in their tent in Sarmatia, he could not help but lean forward and drop a light kiss on her lips.
When he pulled away, her blue eyes stared back at him.
"Vixen, why aren't you asleep?" he growled playfully, kissing her temple.
"Why are you not?" she teased, snuggling closer to him.
"I was thinking of how beautiful you are," he answered matter-of-factly, closing his eyes.
"And how lucky you are," she teased and he felt her smile against his chest and ran his fingers down her spine, causing her to sigh contentedly. A thought crossed his mind then and he looked down at her.
"Why did you allow Cornell to travel with you?"
She let out a snort and glared out the window. "I did not allow it. It was insisted upon by my parents and your own and I could not disobey. He managed to convince them that he could protect me."
"And why did you leave the village?" he asked, placing his fingers beneath her chin and forcing her to look at him. "We agreed you would wait for me there."
She let out a sigh and propped himself up painfully. "For several nights, soon to be one year past, I had horrific nightmares, seeing you fall at the hand of a demon looking Saxon. After the fourth night I went to my mother, and to yours, and they agreed that it was our Amazon ancestors, sending me a vision of warning. When the Saxons attacked less than a month later, it only confirmed our suspicions."
He interrupted her. "Saxons?"
"Aye, your mother was ill so I stayed back, as did my mother, with her and about thirty other women, most of whom were too far along with child or to old to travel with the hunt, and about two dozen children running about. Only sixty Saxons attacked and they were easily dispatched," she smiled at the memory. "We lost none that day. Why?"
"That is the day Cornell told me you died on," Tristan stated. "As well as our mothers."
"And you honestly believed him?" she sounded slightly insulted.
"I should have known," he smiled kissing her cheek. "I am proud you are my wife."
"You would be more so if you had seen me that day. But as I was saying, after the Saxons attacked we took it to the elders, who also agreed and it was decided I was to go to you, as was their wish. And, I must admit, my own." When she looked at him again, there were tears in her eyes. "I could be wrong, but if I am not, then you would not have returned to me, and I could have never bore that."
He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply. "That will not happen, I swear to you."
"That pleases me," she smiled against his lips, and rested her head upon his chest once more, letting the steady beating of his heart lull her to sleep. "I love you my Tristan," she whispered.
"And I you my Ana," he answered, as they both drifted off to sleep.
Authors Note: This was pretty hard to write considering Tristan is so silent and guarded with his feelings. But I figured, with Ana, he could be a little more, I don't know…loving? Hope it all worked out okay. I was pleased. (Tracy137 did I get his personality right?) Anyway, R&R, no flames and enjoy.